Glorfindel Goldtress
by Argent1
Summary: Glorfindel remembers something of his death and implores Elrond to do something that Elrond considers to be criminal.


Disclaimer: It all belongs to Tolkien. I just borrow them. 

Argent.

**Glorfindel**** Goldtress**

© M.H.

     "Peredhel!"

     Lord Elrond of Imladris looked up in shock at the sudden and sharp cry. None of the Valley dared call upon him in that manner but for one, a certain reborn Elf by the name of Glorfindel who had yet to comprehend Elrond's age and wisdom and the connection to his father Eärendil who was but babe at the time of his death.

     By the time the dark haired elf stood and took a step away from his carved writing table said reborn elf had strode into the room and slammed a pair of scissors onto the writing table so hard a few items took a short trip into the air.

     "Glorfindel," came a voice calm from many encounters that needed a level head. "Whatever may be wrong?"

     Lord Glorfindel's eyes were blazing with ire; he grabbed a handful of his rich thick yellow mane and proclaimed, "You shall cut it off. All of it. Now. Nothing long enough to be grabbed and pulled."

     Now not many a thing shocked the Lord of Imladris, but this was one of those rare instances. Some of the few more recent had also been caused by the golden haired Elf, starting by his rebirth and appearance at Imladris.

     At the moment Elrond feared that his thoughts that Lord Glorfindel of Imladris, formerly of Gondolin, had been recovering and coping nicely and quickly were falsehoods. 

     "Lord Glorfindel? Do you heed your words?" he asked taking a step towards the Elf-Lord extending his healer instincts to determine any ailments of any kind. 

     Glorfindel gave Elrond an impatient look very unlike the usually composed Elf, "Aye. I do. And stop that I am not unwell. I simply wish this accursed mane gone! If you would not do it I shall see someone else who would!"

     Lord Elrond quickly stayed Glorfindel's hand which had been reaching for the scissors. "Peace my friend. I would do it if you would but give me a reason for the crime I am asked to do. For your tresses are precious to more than you dear Glorfindel, the Beloved."

     Glorfindel who had started to become less tense under Elrond's words bristled upon hearing the name bestowed upon him by the exiles and survivors of Gondolin. "The 'crime' I ask of you would have been the savior of mine life had I have had it done long ago!"

     Now Elrond was assured the golden haired Elf was confused. Gently he said after taking the scissors in his own hands and conveniently away from the clearly upset Elf Lord. "Friend. Your fall and trip to Mandos, very unfortunate and sorrowful as they were, were naught but the results of your glorious battle with the Balrog… Do you not remember?"

     His worry was stemming from the fact that ever since Glorfindel had been reborn his memories had only but slowly come back to him in snatches. He had regained most of them. However, that did not stop the occasional confusion and sense of distraught. And distraught oft Glorfindel was whenever he regained a particularly saddened memory, distraught as he was now.

     Glorfindel schooled his own tone to match that of one speaking to a child, "Peredhel. I remember. Believe you me I remember. All too well I am afraid. I remember every jar and smell and burn. I also remember that unlike what most of your lore and bards sing, 'twas not my final blow to the Balrog which pushed it o'er the cliff which sent me along. 'Twas this," he grabbed a handful of hair, "which was my downfall. 'Twas this it grabbed as it fell, 'twas this that pulled me down to my Doom!" the last word had been all but bellowed.

     Lord Elrond stared at the Elda silently, not wishing to speak till the uncharacteristically irate Elf had calmed. He raised an arm silently as his advisor Erestor worriedly appeared in the doorway at hearing the bellow thus halting any words the advisor thought to say. At the questioning look he received Lord Elrond simply gave Erestor a reassuring nod and with a subtle move of his hand and head asked the advisor to leave them. 

     As the advisor disappeared Lord Elrond placed his hand upon his friend's shoulder saying softly, "'Twas then, Glorfindel. I honestly do not believe that occurrence would repeat itself at this time and certainly not in Imladris. For Balrogs are all but extinct."

     "But another enemy might do it! And not always an Elf, no matter now mighty, may outrun or outfight his enemy. Elrond, do this for me, put my mind at ease."  
  


     The use of his own name instead of the usual 'Peredhel' did not escape Elrond's notice. He gave a weary sigh, "Very well, my friend. I shall do it even though I shall rue this deed till the end of my days."

     An extremely grateful look had been bestowed upon him as he took his place behind Glorfindel's back. With one hand he gently took the hair in his fist at the base of Glorfindel's neck.

     The Eldar reminded him, "Nothing long enough to be grabbed, Peredhel."

     Elrond could not help but ask, "Are you certain? Are you truly certain? You are upset by the sudden memory."

     Glorfindel's only answer had been a firm, "Aye. I am."

     Lord of Imladris steeled himself and gripped the scissors tighter. He neared the open blades to the hair and wavered. "Lord Glorfindel. A promise."

     Bewildered, the Elf lord asked, "What promise would that be?" Not being able to face the Lord still holding his hair. 

     Lord Elrond silently berated himself on the treachery he was about to commit. "I need a promise of you my friend. A promise so that I may know you would not hate me for this deed after 'tis done."

     Glorfindel did not begrudge Lord Elrond his thoughts and thus said, "You have my word Peredhel."

     Relieved Lord Elrond released the hair in his grip saying, "Then you promise to think of this till the second dawn that passes us from this moment. If you still wish the hateful deed done then I shall willingly come to you and do it with no word of objection no matter how much it begs uttering. That is my own promise to you. I implore you do as I ask!"

     The older Elf-Lord with a look, "You leave me no choice but to keep my word Peredhel." He said at length.

     Lord Elrond simply answered, "And of that, I am gladdened.

**********

     Thus 'twas with a heavy heart that at the second dawn Lord Elrond stood at his balcony watching the sun rise, where not long after another figure joined him. A figure whose hands were devoid of scissors. 

     Finally, Glorfindel broke their silence. "Your wisdom is well sung of Peredhel. I thank thee for foiling my folly ere I let it lead me. The memory had caught me unawares and had disturbed me greatly."

     Elrond of Imladris smiled upon his friend, "I was merely protecting a beloved treasure of the valley. For picture what would befall me if one of your admirers realize my deed. They would cry insult on your behalf and usurp my chair then claim my life perhaps."

     Lord Glorfindel gave Lord Elrond an amused look at hearing the Lord of Imladris' jest before his bell-like laughter filtered through the gardens of Imladris adding to the beauty of the dawn at Imladris.

     Lord Elrond smiled, for that laugh made his heart flutter with joy as if all were well in the world and so could not stop his own laughter from joining his friend's to the glee of any who chanced to listen upon them.

End.

Author's Note: 

This fiction is under the assumption that Glorfindel of Imladris is the same as that of Gondolin. 

This fiction was inspired by a piece in The Book of Lost Tales 2. 

"Then Glorfindel's left hand sought a dirk, and this he thrust up that it pierced the Balrog's belly nigh his own face (for that demon was double his stature); and it shrieked, and fell backwards from the rock, and falling clutched Glorfindel's yellow locks beneath his cap, and those twain fell into the abyss." – The Fall of Gondolin, p. 194. Dell Rey 1992 Edition.


End file.
